End of the World, Sweetheart
by The Faint Muse
Summary: Clara Oswald is a puzzle. A short, sassy, sometimes oblivious, but nonetheless brilliant puzzle. And The Master fully intends to solve her.
1. Chapter 1

In an often unsure universe, the Master was sure of one thing and one thing only: he had extremely bad luck. Yes, he had resourcefulness and cleverness that often allowed him escape the usually dangerous effects that his misfortune caused, but it was without a shadow of a doubt that he just had plain bad luck. It seemed that everywhere he went the ever-so-annoying Doctor was close behind and managed to foil his plans in just the nick of time. Even as a young child, when he looked into the tempered schism, he was cursed (seemingly by a stroke of bad judgement of the Timelords) with the infamous drumbeat that haunted every millisecond of his existence. Some say the drumbeat drove him mad—and perhaps they were right—but for now all he knew for sure was that it gave him one hell of a headache.

He had arrived on Earth on accident (or maybe it was that bad luck of his). The TARDIS that he had nicked from the Timelords was shabby and didn't like him very well (not that he liked it either, thank you very much), but he didn't have much of a choice in transportation and dealt with it accordingly. Instead of landing him in a very low-tech planet named Vilreach like he wanted, it dropped him on this Godforsaken planet with their annoying degenerate humans. Earth. Disgusting.

Still, though, he was tired of being cooped up in the TARDIS, and decided to walk around a bit. As long as he kept a low profile, the Doctor wouldn't be able to find him. He was walking down the city of London, remembering how he used to have power—when he was Prime Minister. He missed that power that he once held, craved it. But that was the past and now he was back to square one.

And here he was, walking among these degenerate second-rate human being. Like one of them. Although maybe it would be nice to be one of them. What was the saying? 'Ignorance is bliss'? If he was one of them, he wouldn't have had to look into the tempered schism when he was eight years old. He wouldn't know of the vastness of the universe, and therefore wouldn't have the need to rule it. He wouldn't be an outcast.

 _'What am I thinking?'_ He thought to himself. ' _I'm a Timelord—one of the last no less—I wouldn't ever want to be one of...them. Those unsophisticated little apes.'_

Still, despite his naturally destructive instincts he almost wished for a more simple life.

The Master was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realize he had just stepped out into the road and in front of an oncoming car.

{•••}

Clara Oswald wasn't normal, and it was clear to anyone that took a glance at her. Perhaps it was the way she looked at everything, so calm and logical. Perhaps it was the spring in her step that she always carried. Whatever it was, it was clear to see that she was different. Despite this, Clara was leading a pretty normal life at the moment, only when the Doctor barged into her life every now and then would her life be turned upside down. For now though, she was simply living in London by herself.

Right now, she was walking through city window shopping and wasting time. It had been a few days since the Doctor had picked her for one of his adventures, and she begun to feel very bored and restless. So, Clara thought a nice walk through London would satisfied her. But the problem with this idea was that she needed no new clothes, wasn't hungry, and didn't feel the need to sightsee.

In short, she was tired of the normal life.

Sure, London was beautiful and had many distraction, but she longed to see the universe with the Doctor. The Doctor, however, was nowhere to be seen at the moment. So she was stuck here.

It was then that Clara was snapped out of her thought by the sound of a honking horn. She looked out beyond the sidewalk she was walking on and saw a man—clearly not paying attention—walking right in front of a car.

 _Oh God. Oh God. Oh Go—_

Without thinking, she launched herself towards the man, tackling him and knocking them both out of the way of the car. The man's head made a sickening thud as it connected with hard pavement. Clara landed on top him, his body taking most the force of the impact.

Alive. Oh God, they were alive. And the man was still miraculously conscious, though some blood was running down from the cut on his head onto the pavement.

She raised her head up immediately, her face just a mere inch or two from his. She could feel his labored breathing against her cheek and could see his deep brown eyes staring into hers. His close proximity made her almost blush.

"Ow!" The man groaned in pain, his hand grasping his injured head. "Get off me, you imbecile."

Clara, still on top of him, scowled. "Um, _excuse me_ , but I just saved you life. The correct response would be thank you."

"Well, at the moment, you're squishing me and people are staring at us. So get _off_ me."

She quickly stood up and brushed herself off, offering her hand to help the man up. He swatted her hand away and tried to stand up by himself. Still obviously dizzy from his injury, he was unbalanced on his feet, but he seemed intent on walking without help and ignored her offers of help. People were crowding around both Clara and him now and they were bombarding him with questions.

 _"You banged you head pretty hard, sir."_

 _"Do you need help?"_

 _"Can I call an ambulance?"_

Again, the man ignored them and half-walk, half-stumbled away from the crowd. It looked as though any second now he would pass out from his injuries. He looked angry, as if he wanted to strangle each and every person that was around him. Clara, quick to intervene, backed the crowd up. "Hey, give him some space! Give him some space!"

She joined the man and wrapped his arm around her neck to support him as he walked.

"I don't need you help." He growled the clenched teeth, trying to take back his arm.

"Well clearly you do. You can hardly walk." Replied Clara stubbornly, keeping a firm hold.

"Where are we going?"

"My flat."

"No, I have to be somewhere. I can't—"

"Just shush."

"But I—"

"Hush."

And he did.

They finally made their way to Clara's flat and as soon as they entered, the man collapsed unceremoniously on her sofa, fast asleep. Honestly, she was surprised he made it this far before he passed out.

She stood just a few inches away from the him, staring. Did she need to take him to the hospital? She wasn't an expert, but a blow to the head as hard as he had sustained, he could have a concussion. The blood flow had stopped by now and all that remained was dried splotches of blood on his forehead and shirt.

She took a seat in floor next to him.

Now that everything had finally calmed down, All her past action came flooding back to her. Hmmm let's see... In the past few minutes, she had jumped out in front of a car in order to save a man she didn't know, had taken him to her flat, and now had him lying unconscious on her sofa. _Great. Just bloody great._ For all she knew, the man was suicidal and had meant to walk in front of the car. Or he maybe he was a psycho maniac that could very well kill her. And here he was in her flat.

Silently, she wondered who exactly this man was.

He was dressed in black jeans and a black hoodie and with his nearly bleach-blond hair, he was quite a sight to behold. _Surely he wasn't just some homeless guy, right? If not, he sure dressed like it._ Clara swept a unkempt hair from his face, and continued to search his face for answers. One thing was for sure, he definitely was not ugly, especially for a might-be hobo. His facial features were...very pleasing to the eye to say the least. (Not that she noticed. No. Of course not.)

The man had very peaceful expression now, which was a very big (and rather welcomed) contrast to earlier when she'd seen him. When she looked into his eyes earlier, it held a wild, almost crazed look.

Despite his hideous fashion sense, Clara couldn't help but feel as if there was something more to him. Something that mere appearances couldn't reveal. The feeling tugged at her, but as much as she tried, she couldn't work out what it was.

It was late. When Clara checked her phone it had read nearly 11:32 p.m. How long had she sat there with the man? She rubbed her eyes, stood up, and glanced once more at the man. Would he be alright? Would he sleep thought the night? Surely, with a hit that bad to the head, he'd be asleep until tomorrow, perhaps longer.

Satisfied that she'd be fine with him in her living room, she turned to leave.

"Night, Mr. Strange Man." Clara whispered more to herself than anyone, and went to her bedroom, leaving him alone.

{•••}

Clara was awakened by a pair of hands shaking her hurriedly. It was dark in her room. Still half asleep and a bit shaken, Clara turned her lamp on. The mystery man stood over her, that wild look back in his eyes.

"W-What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?" Clara nearly yelled as she got out her bed.

The man held his hand out to her, motioning for her to accept it.

"Come with me. No time explain. Just do it."

"Wait, what? No! What do you want?"

"I don't have time for this, dammit! Come on!"

Stubbornly, Clara crossed her arms.

"I'm not moving until you tell me why You woke me up at 1:30 in the morning!"

Looking more than a little aggravated, he swept a hand through his hair. " _Look_ , you saved my life yesterday, and I'm about to save your life. You know, payback and all that. So if you intend on staying alive, I _suggest_ you come with me!"

"Save my life? Save my life from what exactly?"

The man grinned crazily. "The end of the world, sweetheart."

End of the world?

"You're delusional!" Yelled Clara, backing away from his slowly.

"No, I'm serious. Something bad is coming to Earth, and it may or may not be my fault."

"You're crazy!"

Suddenly, a loud thunder sounded from outside her flat and the ground shook violently.

The man swore loudly. "It's already beginning." He looked back at her. "Last chance for you. Either you take my hand now, or I'm leaving you here to die. Your choice."

Clara looked into his eyes, to his hand, and back eyes again. And then, slowly, she took his hand. He smirked. "Good choice."

"Now what?"

Then the smirk faded, replaced by seriousness. "Come with me."

They ran together out of her flat and down several street blocks before stopping suddenly.

"Wait, why are we stopping?" Asked Clara, looking to the man. He was digging inside his pocket and produced a key.

He smiled again. "Just found our ticket out of here."

"A key? A key for what?"

"This." Then suddenly a phone box appeared n front of them. A TARDIS. Except for the slight difference in color, it looked exactly like The Doctor's. What? Another TARDIS? No, that was impossible. The man unlocked the TARDIS door and stepped inside, beckoning her in as well. Almost numbly, Clara went inside. Already, the man was busy bustling about, pulling and pushing levers and buttons.

 _What's going on? How is this possible? Who's this man?_

"Who...who are you?" Clara asked, trembling slightly.

Just as he was about to push down the last button, the man look at her and grinned maliciously.

"I am... _The Master._ " Then he pushed down the button, and Clara felt the TARDIS leave Earth.


	2. Chapter 2

The girl fainted. _The bloody girl fainted._ In hindsight, maybe he shouldn't have barged into her room at two in the morning and exposed her to the TARDIS so quickly, but time was a luxury that he couldn't afford at the moment.

With an exasperated sigh, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the nearest bedroom, and laid her down on the bed, not even bothering to pull down the covers. He stood there awkwardly, looking at her for a moment then left to go back to the console room. It was there where he found himself pacing—back and forth, back and forth, from one side of the room to the other.

 _What was he going to do now?_

He had to get as far away from Earth as possible, that was for sure.

He dug in his pocket and produced a small pendent. He looked at it in disgust and hate as it swung from side to side gently. _'This.'_ The Master thought bitterly. _'This small trinket is what's making my life a living hell. '_ And the ironic part was that it was so small. Something the size of his thumb is ruining his life. Though he longed for a more calm life (like the humans possessed, damn them), as long as he had this in his possession, that wouldn't ever be a possibility. He let out a short humorless laugh and pocketed it.

Time to dig himself out of the mess he'd made.

* * *

When Clara awoke, she found herself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. It wasn't her flat's and most definitely wasn't the Doctor's TARDIS. She blinked until her eyes focused and sat up, rubbing her throbbing head. It felt like she'd been hit in the head with something (like a transfer truck), and the headache that came along with it was dreadful.

Along with the incessant throbbing, memories of the past few hours came flooding back. Jumping in front of a car to save a man she didn't even know. Her dragging the weird seemingly-homeless man to her flat. And last but certainly not least, her being dragged into another TARDIS by the man.

 _Another TARDIS._

 _Another TARDIS ._

 _Another TARDIS._

This...couldn't be real. Right? Clara looked around.

It was a small room with a chest of drawers and night stand to the left of her. There were no decorations or any telling signs of life, as if someone had never slept in here before, let alone lived here. She slowly slid off the bed, using the nightstand for support when she felt a wave of dizziness.

She made her way out of the room and into the thin hallway. After several wrong turns and dead ends, Clara was close to giving up, but then she heard a yell of frustration. She followed its source until she was at a single door.

She heard the voice again. " _COME ON YOU BLOODY EXCUSE FOR A TIME MACHINE!_ "

Clara opened the door quietly, careful not to draw attention to herself, and snuck in. She watched the man—the Master as he called himself— as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He didn't seem to even notice her. He seemed a lot older now, than when he'd been sleeping, more stressed out, less innocent.

He suddenly stopped and raised up his head. "You're awake." When Clara said nothing, he turned to her general direction. "I know you're there."

"How...how did you know?" She asked, eyeing him suspiciously. She knew for sure that he hadn't seen her. He was far too busy clamoring about and shouting to notice her.

"Oh please, you were so loud, you'd probably wake the dead in those." Said the man, looking rather pointedly at her heels. When he awoke her in her bedroom earlier, she'd grabbed the first pair of shoes she could find. The first shoes just happened to be hills. She rolled her eyes and brushed the insult away, instead turning to get a full view of the console room. It was much like the Doctor's but it had a much more sinister feel to it. More desolate. More lonely.

"This...this is a TARDIS, isn't it? How did you get one?" Clara turned.

He looked at her as if she'd just grown a second head. "Pardon?"

"TARDIS—this thing here—how did you get it?"

He stared at her a moment more then threw both his hands up in exasperation. "You have _GOT_ to be kidding me."

"What?"

"Of all the humans I could've picked up, it had to be...one of _HIS_!" The man's voice was filled with loathing and disgust.

" _His?_ "

Apparently they were playing the pronoun game because he was being vague as hell.

The Master swung a flippant hand through the air he started to pace again.

"Yes, his!"

"What does does that mean? WHo exactly are you talking about?"

He gave a her annoyed look. "Oh, you know who."

"I really don't."

"Then think about it. Who's the only person you know that has a TARDIS besides me?"

Clara was quiet. She knew exactly who he was talking about, and they both knew it. Satisfied that he made his point, the blond-haired villain went back to work.

"You still haven't answered my question." Clara said following him around as he jogged around the console room.

"Well I find it a bit naive of you to think that I actually would." He countered smartly, not even bothering to look at her

"Where are we going?"

"You're just going to keep asking me questions, aren't you?" Said the Master, but still refused to answer any of her question.

Even on Earth, Clara was no pushover. The second someone tried to belittle her, she came right back, showing them that she was a force to be reckoned with. So when this man had the audacity to blow her off, she wouldn't stand for it.

She tried again, this time moving in front of him, blocking his path. "Where are taking me?" There was a lever that he very clearly needed to get to, but a very short (although she was undeniably fierce looking) human was looking at him rather determinedly.

"Get out of my way." He commanded firmly.

"No. Not until you answer my question."

She wasn't going to move, and they both knew it.

With an overly-dramatic sigh, he said, "Away from Earth. Past your solar system and Galaxy. In short, very, very far away. There, I answered your bloody question. Happy now?"

Clara looked at him, alarmed. "Why?"

"You wouldn't understand. Now, I've answered your stupid questions, so stop pestering me. Go somewhere else."

"Now just wait one bloody minute! When am I going to get to go back home?"

He looked at her, seemingly stumped. It was as if he didn't know how to answer one simple question. "I'm not exactly sure actually. It could be soon, could be a while, it could be never. "

"Not sure? How can you be not sure? It's a simple bloody question!"

He pushed past her, and pulled down the lever, which sent the TARDIS into motion.

"Again, like I said, you wouldn't understand. Now leave."

"And where would you suggest I go, smart guy?" She retorted indignantly.

"Anywhere you want, honestly, I couldn't care less. Just don't blow up something."

"And if I get lost?"

"You won't."

"How do you know that?"

He patted a piece of the TARDIS's equipment. "The TARDIS likes you for some reason, so it'll make sure you stay safe." As if one cue, the TARDIS whooped happily, confirming the man's words. Wow, a TARDIS that actually liked her. Now Clara really HAD seen everything. She was about to set off to explore when the Master spoke behind her.

"Not that I really care, but what's your name?"

"Clara. Clara Oswald."

He chuckled and Clara raised an eyebrow. "What's so funny?"

He shook his head, still smiling slightly. "Nothing."

* * *

Clara spent the next few hours exploring the TARDIS. It was a maze, but just like the Master had said, she always managed to find her way out. Her stomach growled, and it occurred to her that she'd not eaten in at least twelve hours. She made her way back to the console room and looked for the crazy man.

Could she call him a man? Perhaps guess not because he was obviously a Timelord, accounting for the TARDIS and his ability to survive a car hitting him head-on.

She found him reading. He was sitting precariously on a rail above her with perfect balance; he had to be at least ten feet above her. What he was reading, Clara couldn't tell, but whatever it was it was thick. The only books she'd seen that size were dictionaries. Funny, she'd never taken him as a reader because he didn;t seem patient enough to do so, but there he was, reading so intently that he didn't even notice her walk in the room.

She coughed, and he looked down at her annoyance already creeping in his eye. "What?" He asked.

"I'm hungry. Do you have any food?"

"Oh, I'm starving! Glad you said something!" He grinned and jumped off the railing and landed softly next to her with surprising ease. There was something very unnatural about how he moved, too graceful and calculating to be normal. Although she had suspected it before, but now she was certain, he wasn't normal, even in Timelord standards.

He rubbed his hands together in excitement. "We're almost out of your galaxy, so we'll get something to eat. And I know just the place!"

Clara look down at herself. She was still in her clothes from yesterday, a stain from where she'd spilled coffee on herself was still there.

"I need to change."

He pointed to the hallway behind her. "Go back to the room you woke up in. There should be some clothes there for you."

Clothes? For her? Why would he have any need for clothes for a woman? Even though he definitely needed a wardrobe change, she couldn't understand why he'd have clothes for a woman. Sure there was regeneration and he could've been a woman at one time or another, but the Doctor never kept any of his old clothes from past regenerations, so why would the Master keep his?

Despite these thoughts, Clara made her way to the room. She opened the closet and struggled to hold back a gasp. It was full of beautiful dresses of very color she could think of. Red had always been her favorite so she picked a short-cut dress that wasn't formal, but still had a sense of elegance to it. It fit almost perfectly. A mirror hung on a wall so she did her best to run her hair through her fingers for a second. Satisfied that she look halfway decent enough, she went back to the console room.

* * *

 _'My God, she's gorgeous.'_ was the Master's first thought. He'd always been a sucker for a pretty face, but dear Gallifrey, he hadn't been expecting her when he'd tuned around. He hoped to God that his face still stayed emotionless, and she didn't see his jaw drop slightly. After all, she was just a stupid human. **Her beauty will fade, she will die, and he will be left alone. Just like always.**

"What?" Her voice cut through his train of thought.

"Huh?"

'You were staring at me."

"No I wasn't." _What a filthy liar._

"You kinda were."

He cleared his throat. "Well never mind that, we're here."

"And where are we exactly?"

"A planet called Vilreach , best food in the quadrant." He grinned and held out his hand. She accepted it and they walked through the TARDIS's door. In truth, he'd never been to Vilreach and had never eaten their food ( _what was a little white lie?_ ), but he _did_ need to come to this planet to deal with his current...predicament. Though it was low-tech, the planet was certainly full of life. It resembled that of a kingdom that one would see in a bedtime story. Creatures (that looked disturbingly close to humans, except for the claws and the gill-looking incisions in their neck) moved about quickly, not even sparing them a glance, which was just fine by him. The less attention they attracted, the better.

It felt like they wandered for hours.

Then the Master saw just what he was looking for. "This way."

"I though we were getting something to eat!"

"We are, but we're taking a brief detour first."

She huffed, but went along with him anyway. "Alright, fine. Where are we going?"

"None of your concern."

"Seeing as I'm going with you, I think it is."

"Stop asking questions."

"Just tell me!"

She didn't have to look at him to see that he had rolled his eyes. "I need to go...retrieve something. Something important. We don't have a lot of time and we have to get up there." He pointed to one of the taller buildings to their right.

"What's in there?"

He grinned, a sense of excitement coming into his eyes. "Let's just say, what's in there is one of the factors that determines whether or not you get to go home."

"You must be joking."

"Nope."

Clara looked at the building that lay before her. It was important-looking and resembled something of a prison building. It was high security, to say the least. Five guards stood on the outside, holding weapons and didn't look like a force to be reckoned with. She didn't want to do this, but she did want to go home. She longed to see the Doctor, and wondered briefly where he was and what he was doing. Did he realize she was gone?

She looked at him, and nodded towards the prison. "Well I'm hungry and I want to go home. So let's do this."


End file.
